


if you love me, I'll be your only

by hrmdream



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrmdream/pseuds/hrmdream
Summary: The Bellas attend Beca's concert where she performs a sexy song. Bechloe, friendship, and a dash of chaos ensues.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 23
Kudos: 145





	if you love me, I'll be your only

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iambeberly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iambeberly/gifts).



> Thank you to @thehorriblyslowmurderer (Tumblr) for the prompt and fic for art trade! 
> 
> Title comes from the song I chose to have Beca cover during her concert:  
> X - Rajan ft. JDSYN
> 
> As always, nothing here is beta'd so read at your own risk.

The long-legged female staff member Chloe and the eight other Bellas excitedly follow through the wide, brightly lit hallways of Madison Square Garden stops in front of a closed wooden door. “Here you are, ladies,” she looks back with a grin before she turns the handle and pushes through, revealing a dressing room.

Contrasting with the blindingly blue hue of the hallway lights is a warm glow emanating from the light bulbs framing the wall-spanning vanity mirror inside.

The room is spacious with a homey comfort. Plush seating, a garment rack with various articles of clothing, an en suite bathroom, a wet bar with snacks and a mini fridge - everything an ex-captain of a collegiate acapella group turned music superstar probably needs before performing the last show of her sold out tour in infamous New York City.

“Guys!” Beca excitedly pops up from her relaxed position - stretching atop a large, velvet blue sofa - and plucks out her earbuds precisely as giddy squeals and exclamations pierce the air.

“Oh my gosh! Beca!” 

“It’s so good to see you!” 

“Girl! You’re really big time now, ain’t you?!”

Everyone crowds before Beca. Chloe can tell they are just as eager to greet her as Chloe is; they each wait with anticipation written on their faces, taking turns to envelope the famous singer in hugs. 

Some of the girls comment on how amazing Beca looks, and Chloe has to agree. Beca’s glam squad has meticulously done her up. The attention to their detail is warranted. 

“You look good enough to eat,” Stacie compliments. She holds onto Beca’s shoulders as she lets her eyes obviously travel the length of the shorter girl’s body. When her eyes come back to Beca’s face, she licks her lips and winks, “I always did think you could get it if you wanted.” 

“Uh, dude, that’s weird. But thanks, I guess?” Beca lets out a short, nervous laugh. 

Chloe looks on, amused. Two years of superstardom have apparently not made Beca any more comfortable with graciously accepting the fact that others find her visually appealing. Though that doesn’t surprise Chloe. Beca’s responses to years of Chloe giving not-so off-hand praises for the brunette’s body have generally stayed in the range of quiet blushing and murmured thanks. 

Besides the fact that Chloe does, very much, find Beca attractive, she takes great joy in watching Beca cutely squirm. It makes Chloe feel like butterflies and literal rays of sunshine are about to burst through her stomach and ticks all the boxes in the _‘I need to hike my shoulders to my ears because I don’t know what else to do’_ department, which is essentially Chloe’s default state whenever Beca is around.

“I cannot believe we are all here together again. It already feels like old times,” Emily gushes with wide eyes, a beaming smile, and her hands clasping tightly in front of her. “I don’t even know what to do with myself.” 

“Calm down, Emily. I know it’s not everyday you stand in a room with an international pop sensation slash music producer and a multi-millionaire who is shy but could easily be a successful popstar if she wanted to be, but we are simply better, more talented people than you. It’s not that big of a deal,” Fat Amy says with a roll of her eyes.

“Isn’t Emily an award-winning songwriter now?” 

“Is she?” Fat Amy purses her lips. “I must have forgotten, because it has been so long.”

“We should really not make it a habit of letting too much time pass between when we see each other,” Chloe pouts. 

Chloe’s sulking becomes short-lived when Beca turns to her with a smile - the one Chloe associates with late nights at the library, the tail end of dying down parties, and after ‘last call’ at the bar. They are the moments Chloe’s eyes find Beca’s across the way, and the brunette smiles this smile before wordlessly leading their way home. It’s a smile that never fails to make Chloe break out into a warm smile of her own. 

When Chloe takes note of how Beca is gazing at her expectantly, she realizes every other Bella has greeted Beca by now; it is finally Chloe’s turn. Though they live in the same state of sunny California, and are a stone’s throw distance away of different cities, Beca has been on tour, and Chloe has terribly been missing her. 

Chloe stretches her arms wide as she steps forward to pull the petite brunette into a tight embrace. She relishes in the feel of Beca’s arms wrapping around her. She allows herself to melt, though just a little, while she breathes in Beca and her fresh scent of rosemary and lavender. Earthly, soothing and sweet. That’s the smell of Chloe’s safe, happy place.

“Wasn’t our wedding the last time most of us were together?” 

“Aw, that’s right,” Aubrey coos with an endearing tilt to her head. “You two had such a beautiful wedding, Jessica.”

“Aubrey, I’m pretty sure that’s Ashley,” Fat Amy loudly murmurs through the corner of her mouth; her elbow digs into Aubrey’s side. 

“No, Aubrey got it right. I am Jessica,” Jessica affirms - only after throwing a questioning glance to Ashley, her wife, beside her. The happily-married couple exchange smiles before they nod in-sync.

“Wait,” Stacie frowns. “Doesn’t that mean you guys had your anniversary recently?”

“Our anniversary is tomorrow actually.” 

Jessica’s response incites a sudden break out of “Oh my gosh!” and “Happy Early Anniversary!” cheers. 

Once the round of congratulations dies down, Emily turns to Jessica. “You guys should have told us! We could have gotten you two a gift or something.”

“We mentioned it in the group chat? When we responded to Beca’s invitation.”

“That thing is so busy. I never know what y’all are talking about half the time.” Cynthia-Rose shakes her head and flicks her wrist, “My wife made me mute y’all within the first day.” 

Chloe gasps loudly. “You’ve had us - your _family_ \- muted for two years?”

Chloe catches on to the quick, shifting glances darting between the other Bellas around her. 

Stacie is the one to break the silence, albeit uncharacteristically subdued, when she admits, “I also muted the thread. Bella needs her uninterrupted nap time and everything.” 

“Not for the same reason, but yeah. Me too.”

“Me three.”

“Sorry, Chloe.” 

The group chat is Chloe’s creation. She is the one that insisted the girls have a means of keeping in contact after they returned from their eccentric and near-deadly trip around Europe. So each confession is a shot to her heart - cold shoulders and shut doors in the fragile house of Bella sisterhood where Chloe goes to check in on the other girls as they pursue their own endeavours.

Chloe almost sinks in on herself before Beca reaches out to squeeze her upper arm. 

Turning to find deep blue irises watching her with concern, Chloe sighs. 

After hearing how basically half of the Bellas had the group chat muted, Chloe guesses she cannot complain. If she were to be completely honest, it appears the lack of active notifications does not deter her girls from staying in touch with everyone else’s happenings. The thread does update on a daily basis after all. 

Chloe can always count on her phone chiming throughout the day, notifying her to everyone chatting about work, relationships, or daily nuisances. They discuss everything really, but there happens to be one topic that makes the other girls ecstatic - Beca’s love life: pop culture tabloid edition.

The recent speculation surrounding Beca’s second album being a dedicated love letter to a singular individual - not to mention the media’s constant attempts at playing detective to unveil Beca’s object of affection - has the text thread endlessly buzzing as of late. 

The other Bellas are respectful in the sense they do not pry or pester Beca into revealing any details about the rumored relationships panning the covers of magazines. If anything, they seem more keen on teasing their minimally affectionate ex-captain rather than uncovering private details. Beca hardly puts a stop to her friends having their fun - save the occasional insertion of “gross” whenever their imaginations apparently wander a little too far. 

Even if Chloe thinks the girls could be talking about more interesting, less annoying, _‘won’t keep Chloe up late at night’_ kinds of things, Chloe cannot blame them for how often they bring up Beca’s news. There is a _lot_ of media gossip after all.

Somehow Beca’s bisexual identity gives far-removed, third-party observers with too much time on their hands the impression they have free reins to romantically pair Beca with practically anyone she interactes with. Chloe is one such potential suitor - much to the other Bellas’ (and Chloe’s) glee (“Finally! Bhloe is real!”). 

The first time Chloe is featured in a Beca dating tabloid is right after she breaks up with Chicago. The two of them let it go on for almost a year, but seeing as how they are unable to hit the bar of smoothly operating and happily just being together, a bar Chloe knows is reachable, Chloe ends up initiating the break-up. They call it quits. 

Losing someone you’ve dedicated a fair amount of time to is a pretty big deal, so Beca, who is somehow always Chloe’s knight in shining armor - whether she means to be or not - flies out to stay with Chloe for a whole week until her busy schedule cannot be held off no longer. 

This is the same time period Beca has just come fresh out of winning a Grammy for ‘Best New Artist’, so flying under the radar is impossible. The constant, unexplainable sightings of Beca Mitchell in Sacramento when it is widely known she lives in Los Angeles and is in the middle of working on a new album to follow her certified platinum debut album turns Chloe into ‘The vet with Beca Mitchell as her pet’ (Chloe may or may not have kept the magazine clippings of the blurry, out-of-focus pictures showing her and Beca doing run of the mill activities).

“It’s okay, Chlo.” 

Chloe is pulled from her thoughts when she feels Beca give her arm another comforting squeeze. She imagines she must be looking out of sorts, because Beca’s voice is all types of soothing. 

“Everyone manages to check in on the chat when they can. I mean - you all saw my invite in the group, and we’re all here together. Except for Lilly of course,” Beca trails off, “or is it Esther now?” 

Chloe smiles seeing the brunette get lost in her thoughts for a second.

“Anyway, yeah, you guys all made it.” She nods with a tight-lipped smile.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Beca.” Aubrey speaks with genuine sincerity (Chloe is reminded how much closer the two have gotten since their Barden University days).

“You did pretty much give us an offer we couldn’t refuse.” 

The Bellas all nod in agreement to Cynthia-Rose. 

Not only had Beca invited the Bellas to attend her show in New York City for a weekend get together, but she had prefaced with the fact that the record label would be accommodating flights, hotel rooms, and access to the tour after party for whomever could make it. Every Bella - minus Lilly who had conflicting plans - jumped at the opportunity 

Chloe covers Beca’s hand with her own and squeezes. “Yeah, Becs. Thank you for organizing this special night for us. I’ve really missed everyone.” 

“I know.” Beca murmurs so quietly; Chloe isn’t certain she heard properly, but the small flame that flickers in the pit of her stomach when Beca reflects her smile makes the redhead feel sure.

“Well alright, nerds.” Beca shifts her gaze to the rest of the group, “My dressing room isn’t stocked with all of this booze for no reason. You guys need to drink up!” Beca motions towards the collection of liquor bottles sitting on the coffee table.

“Oh, all of this is for us?” Fat Amy’s eyebrows rise. “That’s a relief. I guess we don’t really need this then.” 

The Bellas look on as the Australian reaches behind herself and stretches the flexible waistband of her black leggings. After the loud _‘snap’_ that sounds with the waistband’s release, Fat Amy brings her hands back around with something new held within them. 

“Did you seriously hide a bottle of liquor between your asscheeks?” disbelief drips from Beca’s question. The pop star's expression sits on a confused mixture of looking concerned yet impressed. 

“The strategic hiding of things on one’s body is a good survival tactic.” 

Cynthia-Rose jumps and everyone looks over at the previously vacant space beside her. 

“Lilly!? Girl! Have you been here the whole time?!”

“Hey, Lilly!”

“Lilly! Hi!”

“We thought you weren’t going to make it, Lilly?” 

The Asian female shrugs her shoulders. “Unless you would like Satan to return to using my body as a vessel, you should stop calling me Lilly,” she says with an eerie nonchalance. 

“Can we all start drinking now, please? This momma hasn’t had her fun in a long time.” Stacie shakes the glass Fat Amy poured liquor into for her and motions for the other girls to follow suit. “Bella is entering her terrible twos, and I would really like to have fun with my girls on this one weekend I’ve gotten on my own.”

“No need to ask me twice,” Flo picks up her own glass.

“To Beca!”

“Beca!” 

“You’re going to kill them tonight, Becs!”

\--- 

“Jesus- Fuck! Beca!” Stacie drunkenly hollers. She is as loud as the thousands of fans in the arena around them. One of her hands grips the banister before her, keeping her from toppling forward, while the other reaches hopelessly towards a Beca who is yards away, unable to hear her friend, performing a choreographed dance to an upbeat track on the distant stage. 

Flo stands closely beside the statuesque brunette, likely on alert should she become too overenthusiastic and accidentally tip herself over.

“It-s like she-s ser’nading my soul!” Stacie hiccups and elicits a giggle from Chloe. 

Stacie’s latest remark is tame in comparison to her earlier comments ranging from demanding Beca to come over and step on her to begging the singer to impregnate her with babies.

“Having fun, Chlo?” 

Chloe turns away from Stacie’s drunken antics to find Aubrey beside her. All perfect curls of blonde hair, attentive green-blue eyes and soft smile, Aubrey does not look like someone who downed eight shots less than an hour ago. She stands tall next to Chloe, her arms carefully folding over the railing while she holds Chloe under a steady gaze.

Chloe gently nudges her best friend. “Of course, Bree. I’m having an aca-awesome time.”

Giving herself a moment, Chloe takes in the state of the sectioned platform reserved for VIP guests. Jessica and Ashley are embracing each other and swaying to Beca’s current song. Fat Amy is dancing up against a laughing Emily, while Cynthia-Rose cheers them on. Flo holds onto a passionately screaming Stacie. Lilly - _Esther_ \- is the only one not in her sights, but it is hardly a surprise to Chloe. 

A pleased smile grows on Chloe’s lips. “Our family is together again. What more could I want?” 

“I could think of one thing,” Aubrey says pointedly. The movement is slight - her chin jutting forward. Even so, it stretches far across, reaching the unaware figure performing under the attention of thousands.

Chloe rolls her eyes, but a tug pulls at the corner of her lips. “You’re relentless, Bree. Do you know that?” 

Aubrey mimics Chloe by letting her own eyes roll. “Have you forgotten our whole Senior year at Barden?”

Both girls giggle lightly, because neither of them would ever forget such a significant time of their lives. 

Once their fit of amusement settles, Chloe shakes her head of cascading ginger waves. “I don’t know how I’m back here again, Bree.” 

“What do you mean?” Aubrey’s gaze is soft but questioning. 

“Here. Like - back to fully wanting, but not knowing and trying to not get my hopes up.” 

Aubrey shuffles beside Chloe. “Have you ever tried talking to her about how you feel?” 

Chloe tightly presses her lips together and gives a coward’s shrug. “You know how she is, Bree. She doesn’t really express her feelings, let alone talk about them. She’ll let you know something happened but never what she’s thinking. Even after all this time, she’s so guarded.”

“Seriously, Chlo?” Aubrey shakes her head. 

“What?” Chloe turns away from the stage to question Aubrey with furrowed brows. 

The blonde groans, and Chloe attempts to scan her face. There’s a trace of something in Aubrey’s expression, but Chloe does not recognize it. She thinks she sees hesitance but what Aubrey is conflicted with, Chloe has no idea. 

Eventually Aubrey shakes her head again. “You two are ridiculous. I really want to bash your heads together, and I mean that literally.” 

“Excuse me, Ms. Lodge-of-Fallen-Leaves. I thought violence was a counterproductive solution to life’s problems.” 

“Are you sure? Because my dad has about a hundred different sayings, which all seem to imply otherwise,” Aubrey says with a lighthearted laugh, loosening the heaviness hanging in the air.

Both girls seem thankful for the change and settle into the comfortable lull.

Looking back out across the arena, Chloe sees that Beca is now cutely parading on stage with her dancers following her. She slightly narrows her eyes to focus on the brunette’s shape on the farthest end of the stage.

“Chlo,” Aubrey begins again tentatively, “did you at least give her a hint about why you decided to break it off with Chicago?” 

Chloe’s bottom lip curls as she worries it beneath her upper teeth. 

“Chloe,” there’s a certain tone when Aubrey says her name; Chloe knows Aubrey will not let this question go unanswered.

“I didn’t think it was relevant.” 

“Right,” Aubrey drawls. “Because the damning realization your subpar happiness in your relationship as a result of you constantly comparing your boyfriend to _someone else_ is completely irrelevant and not worth sharing to the mentioned unnamed person.” 

Chloe slightly hates how the sarcasm dripping in Aubrey’s voice rivals Beca’s, particularly because the two share the similar habit of being obnoxiously sarcastic when they know they’re right about something.

“I meant I didn’t want to put pressure on her. If she doesn’t feel the same way-” Chloe feels her chest constrict. It was the first time in a long time she had voiced her concerns out loud, and she was not prepared for the swirl of emotions that came with it. Thankfully Aubrey’s hand on her shoulder and the half-hug her best friend pulls her into disrupts Chloe’s train of thought. 

“Trust me, Chloe. I don’t think that’s a problem.” Aubrey laughs to herself. “I’m going to say this, and you’re going to take it how you will. You two have been killing the rest of us by how idiotically blind you’re being. We’re not sure if you guys are wimps, fools, or masochists.” 

Chloe scrunches her nose. “None of those things sound nice.” 

“Definitely not, love.” Aubrey rubs Chloe’s shoulder and presses a kiss against her temple. “You should let her know how you feel. Preferably some time this weekend while we’re all here. And I’m serious, Chlo. Stop worrying. She might surprise you.” 

“What if I scare her away?”

Aubrey’s sigh is filled with exasperation. She takes a hold of Chloe’s shoulders. “Chloe, look at me.” 

Hesitantly, Chloe meets Aubrey’s gaze.

“You’ve asked me to trust Beca once before - a last chance at a championship on the line no less - and look how aca-mazingly that turned out. Now I’m asking for you to trust in her and the value she holds on your guys’ relationship at the very least. Ok?”

The sincerity and strength Chloe finds in Aubrey’s eyes makes the motion of nodding and agreeing to her easy.

“Awes. Now let’s swoon over how insanely talented our little alt-girl is.” Aubrey places two fingers between her lips and creates a shrill, ear-splitting whistle that makes Chloe grin widely.

As Chloe watches the object of her affection continue to perform her heart out on stage, she swells with happy pride and resolves with herself to finally woman up.

\---

Intermission comes and goes, during which the Bellas get a new stock of liquor in their systems.

Beca is a few songs into the second half of her show when Aubrey examines Fat Amy with a questioning gaze. 

“Amy? Where is your ‘All Access’ lanyard?”

“Oh that? I sold it to some fan for twenty dollars like four songs ago.” 

“Shit, girl. You’re crazy,” Cynthia-Rose says with wide eyes. 

Aubrey stares at Fat Amy, looking incredulous, “Don’t you think you’ve introduced a possible security threat by doing that?”

Fat Amy merely shrugs, “We survived my father and the ‘Fat Dingo Bitch’, didn’t we?”

“Well, don’t forget that Emily is still here. If anyone goes missing or taken for ransom, we have her as an extra body for negotiating and trading,” Flo speaks with a smile. 

“Wait - what?” The youngest Bella bends down - worry on her face. “What are we doing with my body?”

“Mm, we’re doing something with bodies? I could do with a lot being done to my body right about now,” Stacie, who managed to sober up before intermission and then plummet back to drunkenness after more drinking backstage, sways on her feet and hics. “I’m warm all over and ready to do _things_ ,” she chooses to emphasize what she means by running her hands along the length of her body. 

At the end of her one-woman groping party, Stacie sends a wink to Cynthia-Rose, who is standing there with eyes bulging out from their sockets and eyebrows so far up her forehead, they are incapable of shooting any higher without breaching her hairline.

Chloe hears Cynthia-Rose mutter something vaguely like “loyal, married woman” before she shakes herself off. 

“Ok, should we go give someone a heads up about the fan walking around with an all access pass?” Emily questions the older girls around her. 

“Eh,” Stacie shrugs. “S’not really our problem is it?”

“Um. It is if they find a way to get to Beca,” Aubrey’s voice has a strain in it. Almost like she is holding herself back from a full blown freakout - or more accurately, puke fiasco. 

Given any other situation, Chloe would try to soothe Aubrey and ensure the contents of the blonde’s esophagus stays put inside her, but Aubrey is blanketing dreadful worry over Chloe as well. 

A heavy pressure pushes down on Chloe’s chest, and her heart starts pounding.

Before Chloe’s imagination runs wild, creating scenarios with varying degrees of associated danger, Madison Square Garden plunges into darkness, initiating a ground-shaking roar from the crowd and pulling the Bellas’ attention back to the stage. 

The lights begin to pulse with a heartbeat-like cadence, and Chloe lets herself believe the fans were able to bring the arena to life with the tremendous energy of their combined spirit.

Then, a note like shimmering water begins to drift through the speakers. Chloe finds it oddly therapeutic and calming. Evidently the fans do as well, because their roaring begins to die down. 

Something in the stillness that follows causes goosebumps to prickle Chloe’s skin. 

It is not until Chloe becomes conscious of her own breathing does she feel it - a static-like anticipation filling in the empty spaces of the arena. The air around her is charged, and she is certain if she were to attune her ears and strain them enough, she would be able to hear the way every single fan present in Madison Square Garden is waiting for Beca to take the stage with bated breath. 

Chloe does not remember the crowd being this captivated before Beca’s first performance. Something about the song about to be performed has the fans on high alert. 

The silent way in which the other Bellas make their way to the platform railing gives Chloe the sense she is not the only one anxious to find out what happens next.

Right as the fans sound like they are reaching the last stretch of their held breath, they are given relief when a low hum vibrates through the speakers, inciting cheers. 

Chloe prides herself on being familiar with the many forms Beca channels herself being musical into, so she is quick to recognize it as Beca who produces the steady sound. The moment Chloe acknowledges that truth, a spotlight shines, an air-quaking bass beat drops, and Beca is revealed, singing in the middle of the stage.

Shrill shrieks puncture the atmosphere above her, but Chloe’s immediate surroundings are an interesting bubble of quiet.

Chloe’s eyes are wide and her jaw hangs. She feels quite certain the lacking reactions of the girls standing around her is a result of everyone still processing the sight on the stage just as she is.

Her notion is proven right when someone nearby finally murmurs, “Holy shit.”

Chloe has no idea which one of the Bellas broke the silence, but she is about to correct them with a “holy fuck” only to discover her jaw won’t move.

Instead, Chloe blinks hard. She is not fully convinced this is reality, because the scene blown up by the large screens around the arena is what Chloe’s dreams are made of - the ones where she wakes up sweaty and tangled in her bedsheets with a throbbing warmth between her legs.

Beca Mitchell, who blushes like a cherry if Chloe offers to put sunscreen on her at the beach, is dressed in sheer tights and a sweetheart-cut black bodysuit, hugging her form in such impressively snug fashion the swell of the brunette’s breasts are spilling over the bodysuit’s low neckline. 

The fabric of Beca’s outfit is a mix of satin and sheer, which means a lot is on display and very little is left to the imagination. 

The last time Chloe has seen this much of Beca’s skin was their fated meeting in the shower stall during which Chloe saw it all (not intentionally, it just happened), so she does not exactly need any imagination to picture the little bits being covered, but evidently, it has been entirely too long. Her eyes are hungry kids in a candy store, taking in every detail of Beca projected by large screens and cameras like everything is sweet deliciousness that needs to be consumed.

Chloe wants to say she is stunned simply by Beca’s outfit and how the brunette owns showing this amount of skin like she does it on the regular, but no, that is not what is leaving Chloe slack-jawed.

Beca lying on an impossibly large bed over a pile of a handful of her female dancers - all wearing as minimal clothing as she is except in their coloring of nude - looking like an intricately weaved mix of delicate limbs, sensually moving along to a rhythmic bass beat is what is doing it for Chloe.

Chloe becomes transfixed on the large screen above the stage. It displays a camera view following one of the dancers’ hands as it steadily glides over the bodysuit, up Beca’s abdomen. The movement is so smooth, one continuous fluid motion, stretching longer when Beca arches her body up to the touch and off the white sheeted bed just as effortlessly; the power behind Beca’s voice never wavers through it all.

Chloe’s fingers twitch. 

It occurs to Chloe that these people touching Beca were strangers, maybe work colleagues at best. Certainly not Beca’s friends as far as Chloe is aware at least, and yet, Beca is allowing them to touch her in a far more than friendly capacity. Unlike them - obviously - Chloe has never been able to breach that threshold. She reflexively clenches her hands tightly on the banister railing thinking about it. 

_”So if you love me, I’ll be your only. You’ve been so lonely. I’ll make things right.”_

Beca’s voice lazily croons in a low, seductive, and borderline _moaning_ way that sends a chill down Chloe’s spine. Chloe shivers and the annoying pins and needles in her fingers are taken away with it.

Chloe does not know this song. She does not recognize it as one of Beca’s anyways, and Chloe has been given unrestricted access to the whole library of songs Beca has recorded (don’t tell the label). Which means Beca has chosen this song, someone else’s song, a song that is sexually charged, to perform on a stage in front of thousands, dressed exactly as she is; Chloe feels dizzy.

“Am I - is this - are we all seeing the same thing?” Aubrey sounds out of breath.

There is no time to answer Aubrey before another roar ripples through the arena. Chloe instinctively cranes, stretching herself up on her toes.

On the stage, Chloe sees Beca and her dancers move off the bed to go stand, or at least Beca does, while her dancers divide into two piles around her legs. The dancers touch, grab, and reach up for Beca. The only one with her body free, Beca moves her hips slowly and purposefully above them. 

“Since when did Beca learn how to dance like _that_?”

Beca slides her hands around every curve of her frame, and she is far from shy, tracing over her hips, her stomach, the expanse of her neck, and even brushing her lips. Every movement looks like a coordinated effort to rile the crowd, which Chloe imagines is probably an accurate representation of the truth (Chloe does not think Beca would move like this on her own volition - not Beca who she has many a time had to step in and guide through Bellas’ choreography). 

_”Why don’t you ride? I need you by my side. I’m lost all in your eyes. Come get lost in mine.”_

One of Beca’s dancers crawls through her legs and begins sliding her hands up the inside of Beca’s thighs. Right as the dancer’s hands are mere inches away from the sensitive area where thigh meets pelvis, Beca grabs the girl’s pixie-cut, platinum blonde hair and assists her in a slow roll of her head.

This particular action makes the crowd go manic. 

Meanwhile, Chloe’s mind is spinning. She feels her throat constricting and a lump forming. Chloe gulps, partly to rid herself of the lump, and partly to ensure she is even capable of still functioning.

“Tha’s it. This girl-s gettin’ my panties thrown at her t’night.” 

“Stacie, please don’t.”

One of the girls sighs, “Too late. There they go.”

“Wasn’t someone supposed to be on panty patrol?”

“Excuse me? Have you taken a look at what’s happening on stage? How am I supposed to patrol anything when my own panties are threatening to fly off?”

“Um. Is no one else wondering how Stacie just did that when she’s wearing skinny jeans?”

“Eh. I’ve learned to not under’stimate The Hunter, Emily.”

“Stace, sweetheart, that was not a question for you to answer.”

Chloe is only vaguely registering the conversation occurring around her. Even if she were completely aware, she doubts she would be able to contribute. Her mouth is dry from gaping and heavily breathing.

The sudden outbreak of piercing screams draws the complete attention of all the Bellas back to the stage where Beca is currently bending the platinum blonde over in front of her. 

“Oh my gosh,” someone murmurs.

Chloe’s gaze becomes glued to where the dancer’s backside meets Beca’s front - held there by Beca herself. Watching the dancers touch Beca was one thing, but to see Beca willingly touch them back causes a heated, tortuous twist burn in the pit of her stomach. 

When the dancer winds her hips with controlled force, pressing back against Beca, who grinds forward, Chloe’s vision flashes with red and her knuckles grip the railing so tightly they go white.

“Fuck. Is anyone else’s knees weak?” 

“Well, my panties are officially ruined.”

“Oh shit. What’s happening now?”

The dancer stands up and the cameras zoom in. Everyone in the arena is given a close-up to the sight of the blonde tilting her head to the side, apparently making room for Beca, who drops in low, bringing her lips marginally close to the bare skin of the dancer’s neck. 

Chloe holds her breath and grits her teeth.

There is hardly a centimeter of space separating Beca and her dancer before, quite suddenly, her eyes flick, staring up through long, thick eyelashes right into the camera lens.

Chloe’s breath hitches, which is really a normal occurrence anytime it comes to Chloe and her appreciation for Beca’s eyes, but when Beca winks, Chloe feels like she has been caught red-handed, doing something she isn’t meant to be. Her cheeks blush furiously.

Chloe’s moment of shame passes by quickly before she realizes how personally affronted she is by the whole sequence of events. 

It is not enough that Chloe’s favorite pair of eyes, already naturally intense on their own, have been upgraded by Beca’s glam squad with a glorious level of expertly crafted smokiness, turning them strikingly extraordinary. No. Beca decides it is perfectly fine to bury Chloe into an early grave by pulling out an illegal level of sexual confidence, which has never, not so much as even a little bit, existed beforehand.

Chloe is fuming before she stutters into the realization that Beca’s eyes aren’t just staring down at her from one screen. Those deep blue eyes that wrap her in a warmth of late summer nights under a bed of stars have been multiplied and magnified around the arena. 

Beca is everywhere - eyeing Chloe, staring right at her, examining her down to the smallest freckle on her skin. Chloe’s skin prickles at the thought - lying bare under Beca’s scrutiny - but instead of the desire to shrink away, something carnal aches between her legs; she clenches her thighs tightly together just as the bass drops away.

_”I know you’re scared. I’m here. I ain’t going anywhere.”_

Beca stands alone. Not a single dancer is in sight. The spotlight on her has lessened to a smaller beam.

Years of singing with Beca and Chloe has never seen the brunette sing so softly, yet with such passion. Something tugs at Chloe’s heart. 

Even though she is highly aware of the fact she is in a sea of thousands of fans, she cannot help but feel that this particular moment is an intimate one. Chloe eases into it, letting herself be drawn in, imagining Beca is right in front of her.

As easy as that, Chloe’s reality becomes just Chloe and Beca and Beca is serenading her with intentional lyrics, conveying all the right things, saying exactly what Chloe needs to hear to quell the concerns stirring in her mind and weighing down her heart.

Chloe smiles to herself, imagining this ‘Smooth Communicator Beca’. Not to say Chloe would do anything to change ‘Real Beca’. Just, Beca is the farthest thing from a wordsmith. 

That being said, Chloe finds it funny how Beca, whether she realizes it or not, has an ability to pick out songs to play which match Chloe’s mood exactly. Obviously Beca has great taste in music, but through the years, there has been a frequent occurrence of the song Beca choosing to switch through the speakers on a long drive, or the one she presses play on when Chloe borrows an earbud during a flight containing verses that resonate with Chloe. It’s almost uncanny, especially lately. 

Beca has been giving Chloe song recommendations, and the melodies are nice, the voices beautiful, but when Chloe listens to the words and the stories being sung, she finds answers to questions that have been plaguing her mind. Questions which linger and haunt her because she hasn’t had the courage to ask - well, it is more like Beca scares easily, and Chloe does not want to scare her away, so she doesn’t ask. 

Instead, Chloe concedes, listening wistfully to these songs Beca sends her way, having conversations with herself and imagining the words that strike cords in her heart and lift away her concerns come from Beca’s lips. 

Chloe wishes Beca knew. Sometimes she thinks Beca does, but then Chloe reminds herself that she doesn’t. She can’t; Chloe hasn’t told her yet. 

It is just serendipitous when Beca sends along a song with the right story - a story Chloe needs to hear - every. single. time.

Wait.

Chloe’s heart stops, and she is pretty sure the crackling energy shooting across her body is a sign that her brain has short-circuited.

\---

A blur crosses Chloe’s line of sight. 

“Chlo?”

“Chloe?”

The blur passes by again, but this time Chloe recognizes it as a waving hand. Chloe blinks and shakes away the ringing in her ears. She turns and finds Aubrey with a hand tentatively raised and concern on her face.

“Chlo? Are you ok?”

Haze lifting from her eyes, Chloe finds all the Bellas circled before her looking worried. Chloe tries to answer, but her mouth is dry. She gulps and licks her lips. “Ye- yeah. What happened?”

“You went somewhere. Right at the end of the performance.” Aubrey tightens her brow and drills her eyes into Chloe’s.

Emily nods. “It looked like you had seen a ghost or something.”

Fat Amy snickers. “Definitely not a ghost. More like a sex angel. Got her blood pumping so hard elsewhere it stopped going to her brain, if you know what I mean.” 

Stacie snorts, and it looks like Cynthia-Rose is biting back a laugh.

“Amy,” Aubrey rolls her eyes.

Chloe grips Aubrey’s hand. “I need to see her.”

Fat Amy draws back, “I was only joking, but damn.” 

Chloe shakes her head and rolls her eyes with a smile, “Not for _that_ reason. I- I just realized something. Well, I _think_ I realized something, but I’m not sure.” 

“That your best friend you’re in love with is also in love with you, and she has been trying to tell you in the only way she knows how - music and bringing all of your friends together, spoiling them for an entire weekend, because you have been complaining about how much you have been missing them?”

Everyone’s head whips to Ashley.

“Wha- you - how?” Chloe sputters.

Ashley shrugs. “Jessica and I are in a happy, beautiful marriage. Who do you think she goes to when she needs to talk about her undying love for a cheery, social, ‘looks like they love everybody, so she doesn’t know if they are in love with her like she is with them’ problems?”

“She - she is in love with me?” 

Everyone around Chloe groans. 

“Yes, you idiot!” Emily gasps and places a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You are a wonderful individual.”

“Guys,” Chloe looks around at her friends, “I need to see her.”

“Finally! Operation Bhloe: get Chloe to Beca commences!” Fat Amy grabs Chloe’s wrist and all the girls squeal in excitement before they hurriedly make their way out of the dome, into the hallways, just as Beca takes the stage.

\---

“Hey! Excuse me!”

“You guys can’t go back there!”

“All Access, bitch!” Fat Amy grabs Flo’s pass and flashes it at the beefy, bald men they rush by.

“Where’s yours!?”

“Shit! Run faster!” Fat Amy screams before pumping her legs harder and leading the charge of Bellas running through the hallways of Madison Square Garden.

The only times Chloe has been backstage of any venue have been the times she and the Bellas were queued in the wings, waiting for their turn to perform at acapella competitions. It suffices to say, being backstage at Madison Square Garden, or rather zooming through the halls beneath the platform of the world-recognized stage, is significantly different.

Thick, heavy wires lie strewn about the floor. Large, technical equipment fills the hallways. There are a lot more people standing around looking like they are doing nothing than Chloe originally expected. All obstacles which will definitely put Chloe in a world of hurt if she were to misstep, trip, or bump into and fall onto the hard concrete.

“Stop them!”

The workers in the hallways turn to inspect the commotion. Even though they look concerned, Chloe is grateful no one actually makes a move to block their path.

At least until, further up ahead, Chloe sees more beefy, bald men skittering into the hallway. 

Chloe thinks she and the Bellas are doomed until a saving grace comes to them in the form of gelled brown hair and lots of denim stepping in from a branched off hallway a few feet ahead. 

“Bellas?” 

“Turtle!” Chloe gasps in relief. 

Theo looks confused, but Chloe is just as confused, at least for a brief moment, finding Esther standing beside him. 

“Did you just call me -”

“Where is Beca?” Aubrey yells.

Esther wordlessly points over her shoulder - the direction she and Theo have just come from.

“What’s going on?” Theo asks.

“Beautiful love!” Emily happily exclaims as the girls run past him. 

“You guys go ahead!” 

Chloe turns her head, taking a glance over her shoulder and watches as Fat Amy stands squarely in the hallway before charging at the group of men rounding the corner. She bowls into them, and they land into a groaning pile.

Esther nods approvingly.

“Thanks, Amy! Thanks, Esther!” Chloe calls loudly over her shoulder before turning back forward, seeing where her legs are taking her. 

The familiar thrum of a lively crowd and booming music reaches Chloe’s ears. She knows somewhere nearby is an entrance to the stage. As her eyes dart around, legs slowing down, trying to figure out where the entrance may be, a mechanical whirring sounds in the hallway, and an accordion-like metal structure folds in on itself ahead.

Chloe’s eyes shift up.

Above the structure, a cut-out forms in the ceiling, and the sounds of the arena pour in through the opening. 

And then. There. Standing on the lowering platform, wearing a form-fitting military jacket with black-ripped denim and combat boots is Beca. 

Before the platform collapses its full way, Beca hops off and a crowd of idling people swarm her. They touch up her make-up, adjust her hair, swap her military jacket for a leather one. 

“Beca!” the chorus of shouts coming from the girls around Chloe catches Beca’s attention. 

The singer pushes past the people around her, and Chloe’s heart soars when Beca’s eyes lock with hers. The widest, beamiest smile she can manage stretches Chloe’s lips. She rushes forward - speed coming back into her legs - as she leaves the other Bellas behind.

“Chlo?” Despite her obvious confusion, Beca holds out her arms for Chloe to run in to. She ‘oomphs’ when Chloe’s momentum almost brings them barreling over. Thankfully, Beca is able to shuffle her feet and firmly wrap her arms around Chloe’s waist to hold them both steady.

“Jesus, Chloe.”

Arms around Beca’s neck, her cheek nestled against Beca’s hair, Chloe giggles before drawing her head back. “Whoops.” 

“Is - is everything ok?” Beca asks. “What are you guys doing back here?” 

“Tell her!” 

“Tell her before I tell her for you!”

Beca looks over Chloe’s shoulder - at the Bellas yelling from afar - before bringing her gaze back to Chloe. “Tell me what?” Her beautiful grey-blue eyes narrow; Chloe almost gets lost tracing the silvery wisps that fracture within them before she reminds herself why she is there.

“I love you. I’m in love with you.” 

Chloe sees her declaration spark something in Beca. Beca smiles, and Chloe fills with warmth that bubbles up in her chest and tickles her fingertips. She knows this smile. But it is not late nights, ending parties, or closing hours. This smile is championships, creating legacies, and dreams becoming reality.

“Yeah?” 

Chloe’s grin grows, cheek hurting, wider. “Yeah. And,” she tucks a loose strand of hair behind Beca’s ear, “apparently you love me too.” 

Chloe’s eyes dart down to Beca licking her lips. 

“I do,” Beca says before she leans in, her nose brushing Chloe’s, sending waves of skin-prickling electricity from Chloe’s lips down to her toes by kissing her.

In the back recesses of Chloe’s mind, she vaguely registers the squeals and cheers from the Bellas in between the mind-dizzying explosions, fireworks, and shooting stars.

This moment is the one Chloe has been trying to reach for years. Except, this is not just reaching the bar. This is beyond - far past the stratosphere. Nothing else will compare. She and Beca are magic.

“Hey - uh - Beca. You have to get back on stage.”

“SHUT UP, TURTLE!”

Chloe laughs and smiles against Beca’s lips. “You should probably go.” 

Beca squeezes her hips. “I’ll be back.” 

Chloe nods. “I’ll be here.”


End file.
